Shield
by wolfraven80
Summary: Amelia with hints of FranzxAmelia. She had wanted to be strong, to be a shield, but how could she be a shield to anyone if she shattered at the first blow? This was something she had to see through herself or she was no better than a shield of glass...


**Shield**

_Amelia hit the ground hard, the taste of gravel in her mouth. It was a taste she knew all too well now. It was joined by the coppery tang of blood and a stinging in her lower lip._

_The first time, she had thought it would be the end of it..._

**ooo**

Amelia spun on her heel, her heart in her throat as a bang sounded behind her. Alone in the stables, tending to her mount, she had thought one of the horses had kicked out at a stall door, and was surprised to see a shadowy figure at the far end of the stables. In the gloom it took her a moment to recognise the silhouette of one of the other junior guards with whom she'd been training since the end of the war.

"Myrna, you startled me." They were in separate units so Amelia did not know her well, but her tall, lean frame was unmistakable. She stood as high as many of the men and during training exercises she could move like a mountain lion.

Myrna glowered down at her. "You're Amelia."

It was not a question but Amelia nodded. "Do you need help with something? I was just finishing up with my horse."

But Myrna's brow was more creased than ever. "You're the Grado turncoat, aren't you?"

Her voice was like the chill wind that howled through Caer Pelyn's crags. All at once, Amelia felt as a soldier disarmed on the battlefield.

"I think there's been a misunderstanding," Amelia said, holding her hands out, palms open. Myrna loomed over her, fists balled. "I _am_ from Grado, but I fought with Renais' forces under Princess Eirika."

"No, no misunderstanding." And then one of those balled fists hurtled towards Amelia's face before she could do more than blink. Dazed as she found herself on the stable floor, jaw aching, Amelia still managed to make out Myrna's words. "We don't need your kind here."

A kick to the ribs stole Amelia's breath. Two more for good measure and then a boot heel crunched down on her fingers. She cried out, and shame scalded through her, sharper than the pain.

After Myrna left, Amelia used the stall door to pull herself up and make her way to the castle infirmary. She told the healer that one of the horses had kicked her.

**ooo**

The first time, she thought that would be the end of it. The second time, she knew it wouldn't.

She told the group of peers she roomed with that she'd had an accident, but she never told them the name of the accident. Such incidents were not unheard of, but she and the other girls were training to be soldiers and what sort of soldier would she be if she couldn't even defend herself on her home ground? No better than the child she'd been, cowering under the bed while bandits had taken away her mother.

Amelia avoided being left alone with Myrna, but she and the others had duties as guardsmen and squires, and there were times when it couldn't be helped. The second time, Amelia found herself in a storage room when Myrna came in. As soon as the taller woman stalked towards her, Amelia balled her fists, ready for an incoming blow. "Myrna, please let's not do th–"

She managed to duck beneath the first punch and dodge away from the second. She tried to draw back then, but Myrna was quick like wildfire and snagged her by the collar, driving a knee into her belly.

This time she came out with no broken bones, but a gash on her chin from when she'd hit the flagstones. She told the healer that she'd fallen down. Her friends worried, and she relented and told them what had happened, but only on condition that they not speak of it to any of the knights.

**ooo**

The third time, Franz saw her on the way to the healer.

"Amelia?" His eyes were wide and staring. He spoke her name as if he did not recognise her. She tried to offer a smile through a split lip and an eye that was already beginning to swell shut.

"I had a little accident during sparring," she told him.

His brow crinkled. "Who was your sparring partner?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing, Franz."

Hesitating a moment, Franz reached out and, ever so gently, placed his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face up. "It doesn't look like nothing." The kindness of that tone, the little crinkle between his eyebrows when he was worried, the touch of those callused fingers on her skin, made her want to pour her heart out to him, to tell him all her troubles as if she were a child.

Instead, she dropped her gaze. "I'm fine. I just need to see the healer."

"I'll walk you there."

They did not speak again until they were at the infirmary. The healer heaved a sigh when he saw her. "Another accident?" he said wryly.

"Yes," Amelia replied. "I'm afraid I've been a bit clumsy lately." Yet she could not miss Franz's raised eyebrows and the shadow that settled over his features then. Her chest clenched.

"I'll wait outside," he said very quietly.

It was only a matter of minutes before she was patched up again. The healer warned her to be more careful and she thanked him and apologised for being so much trouble. "Good as new," she told Franz when she emerged, all in once piece again. But he did not smile and that crease between his eyebrows was there again.

"If someone hurt you..."

"Franz..."

"Did he..." He trailed off, worrying his lower lip, and it took her a moment as his eyes scanned her up and down to fully realize what he wanted to ask.

"She," Amelia corrected. His eyebrows shot up. "I can't tell you who."

Startled, she tensed as his hands came to rest on her shoulders. Of late it seemed the only touches she'd received had been blows. "I thought we were going to look out for one another."

_So let me be your shield to protect you... And I will be your sword and fight for you._

The words they had spoken to each other, as binding as vows, tumbled through her thoughts. But how could she be a shield to anyone if she shattered at the first blow? This was something she had to see through herself or she was no better than a shield of glass.

"I'm sorry," she said. And then she would speak of it no more.

**ooo**

After the fourth time, some of the girls ganged up on Myrna to give her a taste of her own medicine in the hope that it would dissuade her. It didn't. Amelia was not certain how they'd guessed who her attacker was except that perhaps the bloody lip she'd given Myrna in one of their bouts had given it away. It had only made things worse.

Sometimes Myrna would say that a blow was for so-and-so, this one for another, a list of names Amelia did not know, but she understand well enough. Her countrymen had done terrible things during the war. Even so, she refused to be a scapegoat for Grado.

"Neimi, how are you?" Amelia greeted her friend one afternoon after her duties and training for the day had been completed.

Neimi smiled to see her, but it didn't quite seem to touch her eyes. It was like that with everyone of late. Everyone wanted to speak their mind but didn't dare. Everyone pitied her. "I'm glad the day's over actually. My students were wearing me out."

"But you're such a good archery instructor, they can't be that bad?"

"I don't know if I'm cut out for this. I wish we just could go home to our village..." Her eyes were moist – but then that was hardly unusual. Before Amelia could think of a comforting word to speak, Neimi gave herself a shake. "But what about you? Are you all right? I saw Franz today. He's _worried_ about you."

"I know."

Neimi took Aemlia's hands in hers. "Why can't you tell someone? I'm sure General Seth wouldn't let this go on if he knew about it. Or the Princess. She's very kind. You could talk to her about it."

Amelia shook her head. "I'm supposed to be a soldier. I have to deal with this myself. I need... I need to be strong, Neimi," she said, squeezing her friend's hands.

"But–"

"And I... I thought of a way you could help me."

Neimi tilted her head. "Me?"

"Well sort of. Your friend Colm... When you were young did he ever get into fights?"

Neimi flushed. "Sometimes."

"I was thinking... maybe he could give me some lessons."

"Lessons?"

Amelia nodded. "On how to fight hand to hand." _On how to fight dirty._

"Are you sure you can't just..."

"Please, Neimi? Will you ask him for me?"

Neimi's eyes were bright with tears once again, but she nodded.

**ooo**

After the fifth time, she met with Colm in an empty training room, late in the evening when most of the other off-duty guardsmen were sitting around the hearth drinking, talking, or playing games of chance. Colm was a willowy fellow, taller than her, but not very big for a man. He seemed to disappear into the folds of the cloak draped over his shoulders, as if it had more substance than he himself did.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked her.

Even after the healer's ministrations, her ribs still ached from the most recent drubbing. "I'm sure."

"So what does this opponent looks like?" And when she remained tight-lipped, "I'm not going to report on you, I just need to know what king of person we're up against – bigger, smaller, build like a plough horse?"

"She's tall. Taller than you. Broad shoulders and very very fast."

"A larger opponent then. All right." Colm unhooked the clasp of his cloak and, tossing it aside proceeded to roll his shoulders and then his neck. Amelia winced as she heard his joints crack. "Height difference notwithstanding, pretend I'm your attacker and come at me."

Amelia clenched and unclenched her fists. "I don't know about this."

Colm laughed – he actually laughed. "Come on, trust me. Didn't Neimi tell you I'm faster than the north wind? You won't lay a hand on me. And even if you did," he added with a wink, "I've taken few hits in my day."

With a deep breath, Amelia nodded and steeled herself to the task. If this is what it took to fend off Myrna then she would do it. She refused to be weak forever.

She raised her balled fists and then lunged at Colm. He dodged easily and cuffed away her second blow. "Hold up," he said.

"Hmm?"

"I'm wondering... You look like you're aiming for my jaw."

Amelia tilted her head. "Well... yes? Is that not all right?"

"Depends." Colm shrugged. "In a regular fight giving someone a bloody lip is all right, but this isn't a common room brawl. You're trying to defend yourself against someone bigger, stronger, and faster."

"Gee thanks, Colm," she said, one eyebrow quirked.

He raised his hands, palms outward. "I'm not saying that you can't fight, but you're trained to use a pike or a sword, not your bare hands. You didn't do much of that during the war."

"No, I didn't need to."

"So what you're trying to do here is defend yourself, and to do that you're going to have to take your attacker down – and take her down hard."

Footsteps echoed in the hall outside and Amelia cast an anxious glance towards the doorway. But they were doing nothing wrong, she reminded herself. And it was not she who had started the fighting. All she wanted was for it to stop, to no longer need to look over her shoulder whenever she was performing her duties alone, to no longer be defenceless.

"What do I have to do then?"

"You need to aim for things that'll hurt, that'll knock her back or knock her down. If you're going to go after the face, then hit at her nose."

"But..."

"If you break her nose her eyes will tear up and you'll have time to make another move or get out of there. Like this," he said, stepping in slowly and making a striking movement towards her nose from the side.

She jerked back.

"Relax. I won't hit you, don't worry."

"I– I'm sorry," she said, ducking her head. "I'm trying."

"You could also try kicks. You get a heel into someone's knee and you can break it. She won't have a chance to hit you again after that. And you don't just have to use your fists to hit either." He bent one of his arms and patted his elbow. "These are handy– they're like clubs. Clobber someone with your elbow in the side of the face and you'll do some damage." He made a motion towards her with his chin. "Probably better for you than punches anyway what with your hands being so small."

Amelia glanced down at her thin hands. It was true that her fingers were long and slight in spite the calluses they bore from her work with spear and sword. Franz had smiled to hold them in his. Franz... She had to be strong for him, to prove to herself that she could be what she had promised him. A shield did not break no matter the blows it took. "Colm, do you really think I can..."

"Yeah. I do. Now come on, we need to practice this stuff. Just a few surprise moves can make all the difference. Promise."

Amelia gritted her teeth and set to work. The next time would be the last time.

**ooo**

Amelia rolled and leaped to her feet before Myrna could have a chance at her ribs. Myrna had surprised her today, caught her from behind. Her tongue darted out, tasting blood on her split lip. "Why do you keep doing this?" she said. "I'm not the one who hurt your family or your village or whoever it was. I was fighting to _stop_ them."

Myrna spat. "You're a traitor to your own country. That's just as bad."

The taller woman reached out with one of her long arms and snagged the front of Amelia's shirt. Pulse thrumming in her ears, Amelia brought her heel down on Myrna's instep. Myrna yelped, but kept her grip tight on the fabric in her fist. They were in a courtyard to one side of the stables, a quiet corner normally, but if they were caught...

Amelia swallowed her doubts and followed up with another blow, her fist coming in sideways across Myrna's nose. A sense of savage satisfaction raced through her veins as she heard the crunch of bone.

Myrna let go this time, hands flying to her nose. Blood spattered her face and dripped onto her hands. When Myrna snarled a curse, Amelia knew it wasn't over. She moved in again, hooking the taller woman behind the knees to drop her to the ground, but Myrna's hand darted out like an eagle's talons, snagging Amelia by the hair and they toppled down together.

There was a dull ache in her jaw where her cheek had hit the stone, and as she raised herself, she felt a trickle of warmth down chin. A cry escaped Amelia as she felt a hand bury itself in her hair and tug. She lashed out blindly, struck something fleshy and drew back to hit her again.

"Hold! Both of you!"

Amelia's blood froze. She knew that voice; she knew that voice very well. Footfalls crunched across the gravel and Amelia, afraid to look up, kept her eyes on the approaching boots.

"Get up."

The rest was all instinct. One moment she was on the ground, the next she was on her feet, saluting with a, "Yes, sir!" Myrna was slower to recover, limping on her injured foot, but she did get up. Like Amelia, she was a soldier and recognised an order when she heard one.

Amelia kept her eyes straight ahead, staring at his collar bone rather than raise her eyes to meet those of General Seth.

"Brawling on duty is not tolerated," he said, voice steely. "Amelia, this is your first offense. We'll talk about this later."

"Yes, sir," she squeaked.

"_You_," he went on, turning his attention to Myrna, "you'll come with me."

"But she broke my–"

General Seth cut across Myrna's slurred speech. "We'll get you a healer." Amelia dared to glance up at his face only to find him glowering at Myrna. Though she was almost as tall as he, Myrna seemed little more now than a hare caught in the sights of a wolf. "Once we've had our talk." The general had always seemed so serene, even during the war. They called him the Silver Knight, both for his stolidness and that certain coolness of demeanour he was known for. Amelia had never before seen Sir Seth look angry.

She flinched as he turn to look at her once more, but his air softened. "Go see a healer and get cleaned up."

"Yes sir."

And then he turned and marched out of the courtyard with Myrna lurching along behind him.

Was that her heart thudding in her chest? It sounded like frantic beat of a war drum. Her knees felt like water and she was certain she'd have sunk down onto the ground had a hand not gripped her forearm and steadied her.

"Franz?" she breathed, at once relieved and confused.

He smiled, though that crinkle between his eyebrows betrayed his worry. "Amelia... I'm so proud of you." And then all at once she felt his arms wrapping around her, felt the warmth of his body enveloping her like a fur cloak cutting the winter wind.

"Franz? But... Why are you– You're proud?" She drew back from him, shame washing through her as she remembered the brawl, the terrible pleasure she had felt at besting her opponent, if only momentarily. She shook her head. "General Seth said we'll be having a talk."

Smiling, Franz brushed back the mussed locks of hair that had fallen into her face. "You'll have a talk about how they're going to discipline Myrna. He _knows_, Amelia. He knows what's been happening. We've just been waiting for a chance to catch her in the act."

"He– General Seth knows about... But how? Who reported it?"

Franz shrugged. "Everyone. Neimi, Colm, your bunkmates, me. Everyone's been worried about you. This way, though, she can't accuse you of tattling on her." He titled his head to inspect the gash on her cheek. "We should get you to a healer. It looks like you gave as good as you got this time, though."

"I just wanted her to leave me alone..."

"I think she will now. General Seth will see to it that's she disciplined for this. He doesn't take these sorts of things lightly." Admiration was clear in Franz's voice and Amelia smiled at his boyish worship of the general.

"So he's not... disappointed in me?"

Franz gripped her by the shoulders. "Of course not."

She shook her head. "I'm a soldier now. I'm supposed to be strong. I'm supposed to be able to protect myself."

"Amelia..." When she glanced up at him, Franz's eyes were filled with concern and affection. No one had ever looked at her like that besides her mother. And she was gone now. "I don't know how they do things in Grado," he said, reaching out to stroke her face, "but here in Renais we take care of each other. You don't have to do things alone. Isn't that what we promised each other?"

The gash in her cheek throbbed dully and her knees were still wobbly, but her chest clenched with gratitude and happiness at his words. She threw her arms around him and hugged him close. "Yes, Franz. But now I know I'm a shield that won't break."

**The End**


End file.
